Goodparty: Corellon's Bard

Picking up from here...

He did. Of course he did.

"No," said Ruin. "You will absolutely, positively, definitely get slaughtered."

"I do not fear," Aldareis said, straightening. "The Swift Hunter will keep me safe."

"Ah like this fellow," Marshall drawled, apparently completely serious. "He's funny. It'll be a shame when he does get killed."

"No, no, I'll just stay behind you and watch, and then I'll write songs about what you do."

Tavros sighed. "I am not used to thinking of Bards as part of a holy order," he said, "and perhaps that will make some difference... but unless you are somehow able to make yourself invisible to things that can see invisible people, everything in the tower is just going to assume that you're one of us and try to kill you."

Aldareis the bard sighed. "Perhaps so. But I was given this duty by the god himself. I cannot shirk it."

"Hooo boy," said Marshall. "This is going to be funny to watch."

Martini looked the young elf over. "We should let him come. He can serve as a distraction. And he is pretty."

The bard glanced at her and swallowed. 

Tavros sighed, looking pained. Leira was no help; she was still making her goodbyes to Sasha in the shadow of the gates. Geddy seemed indifferent, and Eva was waiting silently, though her eyebrows were raised. And Ruin was, again, just staring at the boy: his full attention, but no hint of engagement.  

"I see," he said finally. "But bear in mind that you can trust Corellon to protect you every bit as much as I can trust Amun or Marshall here can trust Artemis. That is to say that they grant us strength and power and magic, but they do not prevent the consequences of our actions. And we are confronting the Order of Secrets in the lair of Vecna herself, an action with a very definite risk of horrifying death."

"But you're all still alive," said Aldareis, and then blushed with embarrassment.

"True," said Tavros, "but resurrection is neither cheap nor easy. I do not wish to make a merchant's matter of the most sacred of magics, but having you along would force us to waste resources on resurrecting you--" 

"--or not--" Martini interjected. 

"--when we might badly need those resources for ourselves."

Aldareis swallowed, but stood his ground. "I must still come with you."

Tavros stopped, completely at a loss for words in the face of such mindless insistence. Young idiot, he thought, but not without a touch of fondness. Had he been any different?

It was Ruin who stepped forward, planted himself in front of Aldareis, held his gaze for a long moment and said: "Here's how it happens. You come with us on the boat, we reach the tower, you're slaughtered in the first battle or trap or whatever the Order of Secrets have prepared for us. The rest of us leave you there, and if we survive we come back and resurrect you later. You miss the whole thing, and you have to take our word for what happened, just as if you'd stayed here in the first place." He paused, measuring the young bard. "Or, you go to the wizards and see if one of them will lend you a crystal ball. You watch through the crystal, from a good, safe distance -- in a room where you have a writing desk, an inkpot, a quill, and some sand to dry the ink." He moved just slightly closer. "Which -- and I ask this as the, not the Avatar, but apparently as the champion of Corellon Larethian -- Which sounds better to you?"

"Ahhhhh..." said Aldareis. "I suppose when you put it that way..."

"Good."